Miss Independent
by Isabel0329
Summary: Fierce. Strong. Self-reliant. Self-proclaimed leader of the modern day women’s lib movement. But it’s all built on a lie. A lie I’m not sure I can keep up any more. E/B. All-Human. Rated M for language, sexuality and dark themes.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but instead borrow what isn't mine. **

**Summary: Fierce. Strong. Self-reliant. Self-proclaimed leader of the modern day women's lib movement. But it's all built on a lie. A lie I'm not sure I can keep up any more. E/B. All-Human. Rated M for language and sexuality.**

**Miss Independent**

**Prologue**

The lights strobed around me and the thumping baseline of the music flooded through my veins. All around me people were half dressed or less. The smell of overpriced liquor and sweaty bodies clung to every corner of this place, seeping into the very fabric of the building's existence. Long after the people went away, this place would still be exactly what it was.

The most popular dance club in all of Chicago.

There were a handful of really good ones. The elite clubs. The ones that didn't have to advertise because their reputation was enough to get people to stand outside in all kinds of weather for hours just waiting to get in. Hot or cold, they stood and waited. Some showed up night after night just for a chance of a lifetime to be inside the hallowed walls of my kingdoms.

After all, I was the princess of the scene.

I never had to wait behind any tacky velvet rope. I didn't even have to walk in the front entrance most of the time, but I chose to anyway. One glimpse of me by some lone paparazzo and it was enough for a club's notoriety to sky rocket. Overnight a club could go from obscurity to the hottest ticket in the city. All with a flick of my wrist and a few photographs of me walking in or in some cases, stumbling out when the sun was starting to shimmer on the horizon.

The car service I inevitably hired would have to tell me the time. I couldn't be bothered to wear a watch. And the clubs certainly didn't have clocks hanging around reminding their patrons of the odd hours they were keeping.

One endless party. That's what my life was.

Club to club.

Boyfriend to boyfriend.

I went through them like the bottle service in the VIP areas I frequented. Keep 'em coming. That was my motto.

I never let anybody see beneath the veneer I had built. My walls were carefully constructed to never let anybody in. I lived in perpetual darkness and I liked it that way.

Well, that's what I told myself.

My reputation preceded me everywhere I went. Crowds parted. Lines cleared. Tables previously full suddenly became empty and available. Fully booked restaurants, hair salons and stylists suddenly had openings for me.

In my time in the scene I'd earned a nickname the hard way. I'd worked for it.

Miss Independent.

That's what they called me.

Tough as nails and fiercely autonomous.

I thought my veneer was perfect.

I thought the walls would last forever.

There was a crack though.

A tiny fissure unseen by the naked eye and only visible to those who knew where to look. And I was the only one who knew.

Sure, I had people around me.

But they believed the lie.

I was Bella Swan, party princess extraordinaire.

Miss Independent and damn proud of it.


	2. Chapter 1: Town Car

**A/N: Chapters for this story will be short like this one. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but instead borrow what isn't mine.**

**Miss Independent**

**Chapter 1: Town Car  
**

"Bella! You need to go to this club tonight!" Mike whined next to me in the town car, his fingers pounding away on his Blackberry. Right next to him my other assistant, Jessica was doing just the same. No doubt scheduling my club appearances for the next night.

"I'd rather be at Velvet. That place was nice and the bartender was cute," I yawned and kept my eyes down on my own cell phone du jour. As soon as I got tired of it, the sleek slim piece of technology would replaced with a sleeker, slimmer phone. Probably something not even on the market most likely.

"You were at Velvet three times in the last two weeks. That's a new record for you. I'm pretty sure you should switch to a new place now. And besides, Three Stars is opening tonight. They put in a special request for you two months ago. Don't you remember that?" he said and shifted in his seat.

I rolled my eyes at him and looked down at my perfectly manicured nails.

"You expect me to remember something from two months ago as stupid as a club request? Seriously, Mike! That's why I pay you two to be my assistants! So I don't have to remember that little crap," I snapped at him.

His puppy dog face fell and his eyes dropped to his lap.

"Sorry Bella. You're right," was his sullen response.

"Of course I am. And don't forget it," I nodded forgivingly at him.

Jessica sighed and kept her head down. She at least knew what her place was thankfully. Smart girl when she kept her mouth shut. Problem was that Jessica liked the sound of her own voice and unfortunately wasn't that bright. Whenever she opened her mouth I think small animals in Africa keeled over from the weight of her stupidity.

Okay, that was probably being a bit harsh. She was bright enough to keep track of my schedule and run errands for me. Just don't expect her to explain the Theory of Relativity any time soon.

"The girls are going to Velvet. I want to go to Velvet. End of story," I declared, reading the girls' plans for the evening.

"Yes, Bella," Jessica and Mike intoned together in perfect harmony.

Ahhh, music to my ears. I loved "yes" and hated "no." There was no such thing as "no" in my vocabulary.

I pulled out a sequined compact from my miniature clutch purse and checked my appearance in the mirror. Perfectly done makeup and hair. Lips glossed within an inch of their life. Eyes lined and shadowed. Lashes coated in mascara. Bronzer in my T-zone and apples of my cheeks. Dangly diamond earrings sparkling in the low light of the car interior.

I knew my dress was perfect because I'd picked it out myself. Short as all get out. I'd probably flash at least a few people tonight, but thankfully my flesh colored thong would be just enough scandal to make people think they saw my bits when in fact they saw absolutely nothing.

That's what I was good at. Making people think they saw something genuine when in reality they saw only what I had carefully constructed and allowed them to see. I twisted and distorted reality such that my secrets were never revealed.

After all, what's the point of life if everybody thinks you're playing them?

And I couldn't have that.

So day after day I got up and put on the mask, donned the makeup, and selected my clothing to portray a character. Miss Independent.

The photographs that circulated on the web and in the glossy Chicago gossip magazines did exactly what I wanted them to do. They perpetuated the lie.

The problem with living with a lie so deeply ingrained in your very existence is that at some point it stops being a lie and instead becomes the truth. You morph into the character you're trying to portray. The life you're living. Things once before considered off limits suddenly aren't so foreboding.

My right hand started to shake a little at the thought of crossing that line in the sand I'd long ago set for myself. I hadn't crossed it yet, but I could easily see it coming.

And the scariest part to me was that when that line did come, I wasn't sure if I would have a way to stop myself from crossing it.

"Bella?" Jessica said softly, bringing me out of my dark thoughts.

My head snapped up and my vision cleared.

"What?" I bit out.

"Nothing." Her head dropped down and she resumed her death lock gaze on her Blackberry.

Chicago's buildings slowly crawled by outside the darkened car, our speed hampered by Friday night traffic. It was still early and I was in no mood to show up at the club any time before midnight at the earliest. Only the losers showed up before then.

And I most certainly wasn't a loser.

I'd never been a loser.

Well, I'd been a loser for a little bit, but I never liked thinking about those years. The years before Grandpa Swan's will had been read and everybody had about passed out when the lawyer read that he was leaving his precious baby granddaughter with ten million dollars.

Millions nobody in the family ever dreamed he'd had. Millions even his lawyer hadn't known the old coot had.

Guess it paid to suck up to the old man every Christmas. Who knew listening to his war stories patiently would pay off?

After the check had been cut in my name and deftly deposited in several bank accounts to safeguard it, I'd hopped the first plane out of that godforsaken hellhole of Forks and come to the only place I wanted to be.

Los Angeles was about movies and fake tits. New York was too busy and overrated.

Chicago was where it was at.

My first call when I landed was to a real estate agent.

My second was to a personal stylist.

Goodbye mousy brown boringness; hello Technicolor sexiness.

Within twenty four hours I had an amazing penthouse in a high rise apartment building that was fully furnished and worthy of a write up in Architectural Digest. I kept expecting them to call me for a spread.

Within forty eight hours I had a completely new wardrobe that no longer came from Target or Wal-Mart or any of those other discount big box chains. My closet consisted of only names now. Lauren. Dior. Versace. Karen. Furstenberg. Posen. Wang. Most of them I had on speed dial and most of them loved me.

Within seventy two hours I'd made my first club appearance. Some rat trap, second rate dance club that was in need of a bathroom renovation and a serious update to their liquor selection.

Of course, nobody knew who I was then.

It didn't take long for them to find out.

I was the hot commodity. The new thing. The mysterious girl who had swept into town and thrown wads of cash around to get whatever I wanted.

I'm sure some fancy, overpriced and overeducated psychologist would say that I was compensating for my childhood by doing all this, and I wouldn't disagree.

We were never poor when I was young. No, poor meant you understood your circumstances. I always thought we were okay. I never had any concept that money was a problem for my family. For me, it was normal to get hand knit socks and a toothbrush at Christmas. Birthdays usually meant a cake and if I was particularly good that year, balloons.

Or at least that's the line Charlie fed me. Apparently being a police officer in a podunk Washington town didn't pay all that well. My mom didn't contribute much to the household checkbook, instead choosing to pursue her "interests" which mostly were yoga, incense and crystals.

I never thought my parents were bad parents. Not for a second. I still didn't for the most part. They made due with what they had. Played the cards fate had dealt them. You know, all those same clichéd lines about working with what you had.

All the time while Grandpa Swan's nest egg was growing and morphing into more money than Charlie and Renee could save in ten lifetimes. The bastard apparently thought Renee was bad for my dad and decided to hold that fact against his only son.

Good thing he didn't hold the same grudge against me. Or else I wouldn't be sitting pretty with what I had now.

Speaking of which …

"I'm bored with my clothes. I want to go shopping," I sighed.

"Yes, Bella," Jessica mumbled and immediately dialed someone who was undoubtedly going to be opening their store for me if they were closed already.

Two hours and several new outfits later, we were back in the town car and I was hungry. That's one of the things you have to learn to deal with when you're a party princess. It's bad news to go to a club on a completely empty stomach. That usually ended up with someone getting too trashed and doing something that would probably ruin you.

I knew where to pick my battles.

I wasn't about to ruin everything I'd worked for by punching some little bitch out in a club even when I wanted to fucking ruin her. I had to keep my wits and not get arrested. Charlie may not have been the most forthcoming parent with the advice, but if there was one thing he taught me it was to have a healthy respect for law enforcement.

I'd seen too many girls get trashed and then get behind the wheel of a car. Not for me. I never, ever went out without a driver. It cost me a fucking boatload, but it also saved me from getting arrested for DUI or even worse.

I wanted my photo in the magazines, not my mugshot splashed across every front page.

A late night hot dog stand rolled past the car and I knew what I wanted for dinner.

For as long as I could remember, I'd been lucky when it came to my diet. Sure, I worked out in moderation, but that was only to keep my stamina up. I could pretty much eat whatever I wanted and not get fat. Other girls hated on me, especially when I went right from scarfing down a double cheeseburger to walking the red carpet for a club opening. Too bad that they had to stick their fingers down their throats to stay as thin as I was.

Just another reason for them to hate me.

Start a fucking list.

I climbed out of the car over the protests of Mike when the driver pulled into the parking lot and probably made the employees' weeks when I came walking up to the counter. And then when they heard how much I ordered I think their eyes bugged out of their heads.

"Mommy!" came a screeching wail from behind me.

I turned around and saw a little brown haired boy crying at the top of his lungs and his frantic mother trying to soothe him. She looked so embarrassed that her son had started screaming, her cheeks turning the shade of the restaurant's ketchup.

"Who brings their small child out this late at night? Shame on her," an older woman clucked disapprovingly from beside me at the counter.

I turned my sharp eyes on her and couldn't suppress the rage that filled me.

"Maybe she just wants to spend time with her son," I snipped.

The woman's face blanched and she didn't have a reply.

The man at the counter tentatively handed me my food and thanked me for visiting. I stamped out of the restaurant, still filled with anger for the judgmental old woman.

I knew what it was like to be judged. To have sharp, knowing eyes turned on you until you felt like your skin was burning off from the glare. To know everything that was running through their head without them even opening their mouths.

That's what it was like being from a small town.

That's what it was like being the new girl in an unknown city.

That's what it was like having your picture appear on both best and worst dressed lists.

That's what it was like being me.

You didn't have to be famous to be judged though.

You just had to be a target.

The food I'd bought was gone in ten blocks.

I wadded the last of the paper wrappers up and shoved it in the white paper bag when I was done, leaning my head back against the black leather seat. My eyes closed and I couldn't stop the thoughts from coming to the forefront.

The mother and her son.

Just trying to enjoy their time together.

The frantic look in her eye gave it all away to me.

While most everybody around her probably pitied her, hated her, looked down upon her, I would never do that. I would never cast judgment and discourage her.

It simply wasn't in my abilities to do so.

This tiny voice in the back of my head was whispering to me, telling me everything I already knew. I pushed it back, not willing to listen to it tonight. I was out to have fun, not wallow in self pity.

I could never think those thoughts.

I could never be weak.

There simply wasn't room in my life for weakness.

There wasn't room for much of anything any more.


	3. Chapter 2: Surrounded

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but instead borrow what isn't mine.**

**Miss Independent**

**Chapter 2: Surrounded**

Since I started making myself known in the party scene, I've often been called a lot of stuff. Horrible names that most people wouldn't even call their animals.

I would like to think I've grown a thick skin to them over the years, but alas this isn't the case. Each and every single time I see, hear or read a name I've been called, another chink of my armor falls off. Every hurtful word strips me just a little more bare.

Granted, I've probably done nothing to dispel the stereotype that party girls have, but for all intents and purposes I am not those names. I never have been. Sure, I have my moments where I lash out against someone or something, but overwhelmingly I would say I'm a good person.

Grandpa Swan apparently thought I was.

Back when I'd sit with him at holidays, him firmly entrenched in his Lazy Boy chair that was older than him probably, and me in a not as comfortable chair pulled up along side him.

Those were a lot easier times for me. I didn't have to worry about anybody's opinion of me because honestly nobody really paid attention to me. I was mousy Bella Swan, who worked at a sporting goods store and wore a hideous orange work vest. To quote from one of my favorite movies, whoever said orange was the new pink was seriously disturbed.

I woke up, took my shower with water that wasn't softened, had breakfast that was usually a bowl of store brand cereal, and went to school. I tried to hide as much as I could. Blending into everybody else because I didn't want anybody to see me. Unfortunately I had a bad habit of making my presence known by stumbling over the smallest piece of whatever may be on the ground. I even tripped across the stage at graduation if you could believe that.

Most people wouldn't believe that I've never been one for the spotlight.

To be perfectly honest with you, I still don't like it.

Every time a camera gets up in my face, my heart starts to beat faster and I break out in a sweat at the nape of my neck. Every damn time. You'd think it would get easier considering how often I've been photographed and my image has been plastered across every media type possible, but that is sadly not the case.

When I'm alone at night, I pull out the old laptop Charlie and Renee scrimped and saved for so I could get work for school done. I still have the thing. It's slow and I could easily get one that is so much faster and up to date, but I have a sentimental connection to it.

That doesn't mean I let Jessica or Mike know I have it. They would probably be horrified and insist I throw it away in favor of a new model.

Problem is, much like the thoughts perpetually swirling in the back of my head, I just can't seem to get rid of the thing.

It's a tie to my past.

A past I've tried desperately to rid myself of and yet I can't seem to move on from.

Just because I'm halfway across the country from Forks doesn't mean I still don't feel its influence. No, if anything I feel more firmly rooted in my past than ever.

Lost in a sea of glittering nothingness, I am adrift.

The faces change and the days go by, but nothing ever changes.

Except me.

I'm losing myself.

The character I've created is taking over me.

Soon there won't be any more Bella Swan.

There will just be Miss Independent.

God help me the day that happens.

XXXXX

Of course I showed up to the club in my normal late fashion. After all, I'm too important to be on time to anything. These people were lucky that I showed up at all. Thanks to me Velvet was gaining quite a following and I'm sure the owners were making money hand over fist. Everybody was jostling to get in and get a glimpse at how 'the other half' lived, so to speak.

Too bad 'the other half' stayed firmly up in the VIP section and didn't interact with club goers on the main floor.

The line for the club was around the corner when my car pulled up. Flipping my compact mirror open again, I checked to see that my mask was in place.

Check and check.

Time to go to work.

When other people kept normal hours, 9-5 or whatever, my days didn't start until their nights and sometimes went far into their next days. Such was the life of a party girl.

I took one deep calming breath before opening the car door, steeling myself for the nightly charade I put on. Smile this way, dance with this person, make out with random hot guy #4, and make sure my picture was taken all along. The clubs had a strict no paparazzi rule, but they got around it by sneaking in tiny digital cameras instead of their normal long lenses. I couldn't say I blamed them because they were only doing their job like I was.

My job just involved being in front of the camera instead of behind it.

I put on my smile and climbed out of the car. A few random camera flashes went off, reminding me that wherever I went I was being watched. All eyes turned toward me everywhere. The persona I assumed whenever I went out captivated people. I commanded attention and took over a room even at my average stature.

I wasn't tall and I wasn't short. My height was average.

Thank god for Jimmy Choo, let me tell you. The man is a godsend and I hope he keeps making shoes until I can no longer walk in these things.

The line was long tonight, like usual, but also like usual I bypassed it completely when the burly security guard smiled at me. I'd seen him before and his dimples made me compulsively smile back. A real smile, not the one I wore for the cameras.

He slowly lifted his wrist to his mouth, saying something lowly I didn't catch. No doubt telling his fellow security team members that I was in the house.

"Hey, Bella," he grinned at me and winked cheekily at me. I couldn't stop the tiny giggle that escaped and I brought my hand up to my mouth to stifle it before anybody actually caught me laughing like a two year old.

"Girls are here already," he added and nodded his head inside the club.

"Thanks," I replied back and almost reached out to touch his big arm before I caught myself.

He pushed the door open for me and I made my way into the club with him escorting me, another of security guard no doubt taking his place at the door.

All around me the smells of the club invaded nose. The smell of sweat, hundreds of different perfumes and colognes, liquor, and something else. I sniffed the air and there it was.

Desperation.

Everybody here was desperate for something.

Fame. Love. Lust. Sex. A high. Forgetting. Escapism.

I led the way with all that. I had all those things and more rolling off me right along with the throngs of people surrounding me. They just didn't know how alike we all were. But that's how it usually is. Everybody thinks they're all alone in this world, left to wander without anybody like them. Little do they know that the person right next to them has the same goals in mind. The same endgame. All it takes is reaching out to that person and you feel a little less alone.

My arm curled around my torso at the thought of being alone, my hand clutching my miniature purse a little tighter. I didn't like to think about being like that.

I didn't like to think about how easy it was to feel alone when surrounded by people.

The bouncer followed me to the VIP area of the club, another bouncer stepping aside and letting me in. My usual table was all the way in the back so I could survey my kingdom in front of me and tonight was no different.

Parked down at the deepest part of the section was my girls.

My strides became longer, my goal clear.

"Hey bitch!" Rosalie shouted over the thumping music and waved at me with a welcoming smile on her face.

From any other person I'd take offense to being called such a thing, but from Rosalie I knew it was a term of endearment. She had a tough shell to crack and had a huge reputation for being a nasty, snotty bitch. Even more so than I did.

I met Rosalie by sheer coincidence. I had a fitting scheduled for some new dress I wanted and Rosalie had been there shouting at the designer when I walked in. Something about the color not being the right shade of blue to compliment her platinum hair.

Looking back on it now, I probably hated her the first time I set eyes on her. Women always did that. Any female that was threatening to you was instantly target numero uno, and there was little anybody could do to change your mind on that.

Somehow we got to talking that day and we'd been friends every since. I think it was one of those things were we were more alike than we really knew and shared a lot of the same insecurities neither of us liked to voice or even acknowledge.

Rose was a society girl, brought up in the glitterati of Chicago's wealthy. Daddy dearest was some kind of investor or something and frequently made more money in a single stock trade than most people made in a lifetime. Every now and then I read about him in the newspaper I pilfered from my personal chef. Chairman of several boards and stuffy to boot. No wonder Rose liked to party.

Next to her in the little booth was the third of our trio. Alice was a spunky little thing, looking more like a poster child for musicians than Rose and I could ever dream of looking. Her dark brown hair was cut into a short bob, the tips spiked out with styling gunk. She had piercings up both ears, and a tiny diamond stud in her nose. Tonight she was wearing a short pink and black plaid skirt and white tank studded with black gemstones in the shape of a skull. Black fishnets and pumps completed the look.

Her father had been some rock star back before she was born and his influence could be seen in her taste in just about everything. His band had been ridiculously popular and unlike his bandmates who'd squandered away their earnings on booze, drugs and women, Alice's father had invested it all wisely. Let's just say he didn't do the reunion tours for the money.

Alice didn't have a day job so to speak, but rather dabbled in a bit of everything. She designed handbags for awhile before turning to modeling, her dark hair and purplish eyes a rarity in the blond, blue eyed model set. Mostly though she just hung around and enjoyed life, much like Rose and I did.

Rose primped her hair and I glanced down at her skin tight wrap dress, nodding my head in approval. She nodded back at me, apparently approving of my own look for the evening.

"So, B? What's on tap for tonight?" Alice's sing song voice let out.

"Nothing much. Kinda feeling full after grabbing a few hot dogs on the way over," I groaned and put my hand on my full stomach.

Rose laughed at me, mostly because she knew how I was with food. While she didn't have to pare herself down to Diet Coke and cigarettes, she also couldn't eat like I did.

"Oh, poor baby Bella. Are we gonna have to make sweeeeeepy time tonight?" she giggled.

"No," I replied flat out, sliding into the plush semi circle banquette booth.

"You spy some hotties on the way in? Anybody worth checking out tonight? It's been what ... five days since you broke up with what's his name?" Alice said offhand, her finger tracing the rim on her glass filled with something electric blue and probably strong. Alice usually started off with one or two really strong drinks to get started and then sipped sparkling water the rest of the night.

"Stephen I think. And yeah, a couple. One guy eyeing me as I walked in VIP," I giggled.

Rose stretched her hand out, pretending to inspect her cuticles.

"Oh when are they going to learn that it takes more than a couple leering catcalls to get our attention?" she asked sounding typically bored.

I laughed and grabbed for her martini, taking a healthy swallow in the process. I bit back the stinging taste of Rose's typical dry mixture, more gin than vermouth. She probably should just drink straight from the bottle instead of having the bartender pour it into a glass, but Rose thought the long stemmed wide glasses were elegant and insisted on them.

My face contorted for a second and I shook the horrible expression free before anybody could see me other than my girls. No need to have that look plastered on Page Six tomorrow.

"So why are we at Velvet again? As Mike so painfully reminded me, we've been here three times in the last two weeks," I said, intoning my voice a little to whine like Mike always did.

Rose looked away, a slight blush crossing her cheeks that anybody other than the two of us wouldn't catch.

"I have my eye on someone," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

I grinned at her. "Well, why the hell are you sitting here talking shit with us when you could be getting your dirty on with Mr. Mysterious?"

"It's complicated," she giggled.

"Always is with you. You never pick the easy guys. Always gotta have that challenge, huh Rose?" Alice said teasingly.

"Yep," Rose replied, nodding her head and sweeping her wavy blond hair over her shoulder.

In the next second though, her eyes zeroed in on someone on the floor and I knew we'd lost her for the night.

Sighing, I stood up to let her slide out of the booth.

"Just go. And come back and tell me all the details when you're done," I said and waved her off towards the main floor. She wasted no time, shimmying her way over and getting lost in the crowd as it swallowed her up.

The music thumped all around us and I leaned my head back into the plush seat. Rose was obviously done with her drink and I grabbed it, quickly downing it and pushing it towards the end of the table in the hopes I'd get a refill ASAP. It felt like one of those nights where I was going to need a little something extra.

The thoughts I'd been trying to suppress for so long were demanding attention in the back of my head. With each passing day they were getting louder, more insistent.

I could really use a night off from them.

"So … uh … Bella," Alice spoke, breaking the silence between us two.

I turned my head towards her and those dusty violet eyes of hers seared into my soul. There were often times I got the impression Alice could read my secrets, even my most cherished and tightly held one.

Her eyes bounced to the floor and just like Rose only moments earlier, I knew I'd lost her too. I knew what Alice looked like when her hot-guy-on-the-floor-dancing radar went off.

"Just go," I winced grudgingly .

"You sure?" she asked.

"Go have some fun. I'm in a funk tonight," I sighed.

Alice moved to get up before she stopped and those knowing eyes of hers found mine again.

"You've been in a funk a lot lately, Bella. If you need anything, I'm here," she said almost too quiet for me to hear over the pounding music. She smiled weakly at me and took off, melting into the crowd just like Rose had previously done.

A waitress brought another martini over to me and I downed it quickly in two or three swallows. Running my finger along the wide mouth of the glass, I couldn't help but think of the mother with her son from the hot dog place earlier that night.

_Too bad I …_

No. I wouldn't think that. I wouldn't go there. I couldn't.

I snuggled in to the plush banquette couch, pulling my knees up under me and tried to make myself comfortable.

I knew I should be out dancing with my two friends and being the life of the party like I normally was, but something wasn't right.

My phone buzzed in my purse and I pulled it out to see what it was.

Just past midnight.

Some anniversary this was.

Another year over, another year just beginning.

I looked out and saw the teeming mass of people in the club.

This time I couldn't quiet the voice from the back of my head before it made itself known.

How was it possible to feel so alone when I was surrounded by people all the time?


	4. Chapter 3: Happy Anniversary

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but instead borrow what isn't mine.**

**Miss Independent**

**Chapter 3: Happy Anniversary**

We stayed at the club probably much longer than I think any of us planned. Normally Velvet closed around 3ish, but they kept it open until well after 4 a.m. and nobody around me seemed to care.

Alice managed to drag me out of the booth on a few occasions and convinced me to dance. Despite the looming thoughts in my head, I did actually have some fun. The dark shadows growing and threatening to converge upon me stayed away for a few hours.

Like usual the waitress kept my drinks coming freely, not even bothering to ask me when I was done with one before she'd bring me another. Though I think she was having the bartender make them weaker with each successive drink.

I should have been pissed that they were shorting me on my $12 cocktails, but I couldn't find the energy to bitch her out. I had other things on my mind.

Finally when the last of the party goers trickled out of the now musky club, Alice did what she always did. She took care of me.

We had a system down.

When I was too drunk to call my car service, she did for me. The car would come pick us up wherever we were happening to be partying that night, arriving within minutes of getting the call. The driver took me home first and waited while either Alice or Rose brought me up inside my apartment before bringing them home.

Rosalie got in the car looking like she'd been freshly fucked, her cheeks a little more glowing than normal and lips more pouty than if she'd had collagen injections (which she most certainly did not by the way).

"Fuck, that man is damn good," she said lazily with a wide smile.

I rolled my eyes at her in my drunken stupor.

"You said that about the last guy … and the one before that," I said and tucked my legs under me on the long bench seat.

"Yeah well. What can I say? I like my guys talented," she giggled.

"Classy, Rose. Classy. I'm sure Daddy Dearest would love to hear about you fucking a guy in the back of a club after a few drinks," I replied back.

Alice just openly gaped at me.

"Shit, Bella. You're kind of bitchy tonight," she said after a stunned moment.

"And this is different than any other night how?" I asked and pretended to look at my nails even though my vision wasn't exactly clear.

"True, but tonight it's just worse than normal. What crawled up your g-string and died?" Alice murmured and narrowed her eyes at me.

Those damn eyes of hers were sharp. Earlier in the night I felt she could see right through me. Now I just felt like they were judging me.

I did the only thing I was good at in those situations.

I lashed out.

"Fuck off, Alice. Just have a lot on my mind. Now if you could mind your own damn business I would be perfectly happy," I spat out.

She recoiled into the leather car seat like I'd slapped her.

Rose whistled under her breath next to Alice in the seat.

"Dayyyyyum," she whispered. I didn't miss it.

We spent the rest of the car ride in a tense silence. Sure, I was pissed off, but mostly I wasn't pissed off at Alice. She'd hit the nail on the head so to speak and I was only reacting in the way I knew how to.

It was my defensive nature that always made me act like that.

I didn't know how to fix it, the problem was.

We dropped Alice off first tonight since I was still fairly able to walk on my own two feet, even wobbly as I was thanks to the heels. She got out of the car silently and gave me this look like she knew something bad was going on in my head and decided to just leave me be.

I was going to need a while lot more liquor if I had to deal with her giving me those looks for much longer. Like bathtubs full.

Rose was next and she climbed out with a "see ya, bitch!" and a wave. But that's what Rose was good for. She knew could tell when there was shit going on and she didn't bug me about it. She went through these periods of bitchy every now and then too where we swore she had multiple personalities or something.

When the car was finally empty except for me, I curled myself into the cool leather seat and let the tears come. There were only a few, mostly because I didn't like to even seem weak to myself much less to anybody else.

I had to be tough. I had to put on Miss Independent. All this crazy shit going on in my head was bringing me down and getting in the way of enjoying the life I'd built for myself.

I was a multi millionaire party girl who lived in an amazing apartment and wore fabulous clothing. I had personal assistants, employees, maids, and had numerous designers and stylists on speed dial.

I wiped away the last of my tears for the night and determined I wouldn't let the date get to me.

"Happy motherfucking anniversary," I said quietly to myself in the car, thankful the privacy divider was raised between the driver and me.

I certainly didn't need him seeing me cry and fuck if I was going to let him know of the day.

Nobody knew it here and I wanted to keep it that way.

The car pulled up to my apartment building finally and after pressing some numbers into the security panel, the rolling metal door to the underground parking area slide open for the car. When we were in front of the private elevator, the driver parked and got out, opening the door for me like normal.

"Miss Swan," he said without emotion.

A man after my own heart, that is if I still had a heart.

After all this time playing this part and being in this lifestyle, I wasn't sure that what was beating in my chest anymore was a proper heart.

The elevator ride up to my penthouse was quiet. Thankfully the building didn't believe in that fucking ambient elevator music. I hated that shit.

Once inside my apartment I headed straight for my bedroom, knowing that nobody was left inside the place except me. Alone at last. Just like it should be.

I was alone in life and I couldn't count on anybody else to ever be there for me. I had friends, yes. But they weren't always going to be there. It was only a matter of time before they found some guy who swept them off their feet and there was another society wedding to attend. They might say enjoy being single, but I knew different.

I, on the other hand, had absolutely no intention of ever marrying.

It simply wasn't part of the plan I had for my life.

Stripping off my dress from the night, I didn't even bother to fold it or hang it. It pooled in a mass of material around my feet as I stepped out of it. My shoes were quickly discarded in a similar fashion.

I smeared at my makeup with my hands, trying to find a reason I shouldn't wash it off before I collapsed in the all too comfortable bed. But even in my still somewhat drunk stupor, I knew I should.

The tile in the bathroom was cold under my naked feet and it sent shivers up my body. I broke out in goosebumps across my arms as I turned the water on and ducked my head down close to the tap.

I glanced down and watched as I cupped my hands, collecting the clear liquid.

Splashing it across my face, I watched as the makeup I'd so carefully applied hours earlier melted away. I watched my mask disappear. I watched the walls come down.

The character rotted away.

All that was left was mousy Bella Swan staring back at me in the mirror.

I wanted to smash my hand into the mirror to make her disappear. I never wanted to see her again.

I settled for turning away and crawling in bed before I let the memories come back to me.

Under the cool, silken sheets of my bed and surrounded by pillows and decadence, I wanted to hide. I wanted to get lost in the cocoon of my bed and never come out.

I wanted to get lost.

XXXXX

My pillow was damp when I woke up and it took me a moment to realize it was because I'd cried during the night.

It should have been easy enough to realize considering I frequently woke up with tears long since dried on my cheeks, but every time I woke up like that it always took me a minute.

Just like it always took me a moment to remember where I was.

I wasn't still back in Forks in that tiny house and that single bed with the old mattress with a lump on the left side. Charlie wasn't downstairs making coffee to take to the police station. Renee wasn't trying to cook me breakfast only to give up and settle on pouring my cereal into a bowl.

I tried to tell myself I didn't miss those things, but it was moments like this that I actually doubted myself.

Burrowing under my covers, I pulled the blanket over my head and desperately tried to steel myself for the day. Today was the hardest day of my entire year.

It was a day I always dreaded and never looked forward to.

It was the day I had to go to the place I hated going and yet forced myself to endure it every year no matter how heartbreaking or terrifying the experience was.

I'd made the promise to myself a very long time ago I would take this day every year no matter what was going on in my life. No matter to everything.

I took a deep breath and held it so long my head got dizzy before I let it out.

"You can do this," I whispered to myself, but even to my own ears it sounded weak and unbelievable.

It got harder every year to believe myself.

I threw back the covers with a flourish with my mask in place, my game face firmly affixed.

My robe was strewn across a random chair in my bedroom and I slipped it, tying the sash around my waist.

Maybe I'd have a Bloody Mary this morning with breakfast to help me get prepared.

Did that make me an alcoholic?

Probably.

Just another label to add to my already long list.

I smelled the sizzle of bacon as I walked out of my bedroom and down the long hallway towards the magnificent kitchen my apartment had come with.

It was one of those things you see in home decorating magazines. Dark cherry wood cabinets and black granite countertops. Stainless steel professional appliances. Top of the line everything.

Stepping into the kitchen, I expected to see my personal chef John there.

But he wasn't.

There was a tallish man with a mop of unruly hair with an unusual brownish color to it standing in front of my stove paying close attention to what was probably my breakfast.

"You're not John," I said loudly.

The guy's arm stilled and he slowly turned his head, looking at me over his shoulder.

I caught the edge of a smile and a flash of his eyes before he turned back around.

"No, I'm not," he replied.

"So who the fuck are you and where the fuck is John?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest over the silky navy robe.

He didn't answer me, instead kept attending to the food on the stove.

"Do I have to call building security?" I almost shouted at him.

"Not necessary," he said in return, his calm demeanor almost unnerving.

I sighed impatiently and tapped my bare foot on the hard wood floor.

Finally he lifted the sauté pan off the flame and slid what looked like an omelette onto a waiting plate next to the stove. He turned back to me and I'll have to say, my mouth started watering looking at what he had on the plate. It looked delicious.

"I'm Edward. John's replacement. I'm sure you're aware that he decided to tender his resignation. He told me as much," the guy said and looked straight at me.

His eyes were the shade of the forest in Forks after a steady overnight rain.

And I felt like they were seeing straight through me. Past the walls. Past the mask. Past all the crap lies I'd built around me.

It was unnerving to say the least.

"Are you just going to stare or finish my fucking breakfast?" I said, glowering at him and wishing that I could remember John telling me he was leaving.

Edward smirked at me and I wanted to slap it off his face. Arrogant bastard.

Despite the knowing look he was giving me, he turned back to the stove as I pulled out a stool to sit at the raised counter on one side of the huge island in the middle of my kitchen. I crossed my arms again, looking like a petulant child who'd just been scolded even though I was no such thing and I'd been the one doing the scolding.

I watched him work and only got madder at him. It appeared that he genuinely was enjoying himself preparing my breakfast and for some unknown reason to me this was pissing me off.

"Bacon crispy or soft?" he asked, breaking the silence between us.

"Crispy," I answered flatly.

"Noted."

He was so unlike John. John had been warm and boisterous, one of those cuddly teddy bear type cooks who looked like he enjoyed what he ate in mass quantities. This guy was slim and his shoulders were angular under the white chef's jacket he wore over his jeans and leather shoes.

I scowled at his back, intent on firing him today. He was rubbing me the wrong way and he'd barely said ten words to me.

Those were the kind of people I hated being around. The ones who just had this air of something to them that pissed me off. I didn't encounter those kind of people a lot, but when I did I liked to do everything in my power to keep them away from me.

Being pissed off perpetually was very unsettling.

He turned back to me, sliding the bacon onto the plate right next to the waiting omelette.

Edward sprinkled some green onions on top of the fluffy eggs and slid the plate towards me on the granite counter top.

"Eat up. Wouldn't want you to not have enough energy to get your nails done," he said and smirked at me again, this time folding his arms across his chest.

Oh, he was so getting fired.

I looked down at my plate of food and my stomach growled at that moment.

Unwillingly I cut off a piece of omelette with the side of my fork and speared it before bringing it to my mouth.

Fuck.

It was so damn delicious.

I moaned softly and this caused Edward's smirk to become even more pronounced.

I grudgingly took another bite even though I knew it would be just as perfect as the first one.

Another moan.

I was right. Delicious.

Okay, maybe Edward was getting fired tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 4: Silent Surroundings

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but instead borrow what isn't mine.**

**Miss Independent**

**Chapter 4: Silent Surroundings**

The funny thing about life is that it never goes how you plan it. When I was a small child, I figured my life would end up being a pretty boring one. It really wasn't something I was upset with, but rather something I just accepted.

I'd grown up in Forks, I would get married to someone from Forks, I'd live in Forks my whole life, I'd die in Forks and most likely I would be buried in the Fork's cemetery.

Sounds like a riveting life plan, huh?

Please note my sarcasm.

The days I was feeling adventurous I'd throw in the occasional trip to Tacoma or Seattle, maybe feeling even so bold as to suggest Portland or Vancouver.

Craziness.

But that's all I knew. I lived a simple life as a child and anything wild just simply wasn't in my knowledge base. If you would have told me I'd be living in a penthouse apartment that was worth a couple million including furnishings, partying until the sun came up with glamorous people and known by a nickname in the gossip magazines, I probably would have told you to switch to a softer drug because the hard shit was fucking with your mind.

The absolute wildest thing I ever did was do a cliff dive on the dare of some boys from the Native American reservation. My dad was friends with one of the elders or something like that. All that bout of wildness got me was a trip to the emergency room and a broken arm. Well, that and getting yelled at for six days straight from Charlie. For a man who rarely raised his voice, he sure knew how to lay into me about doing something so stupid.

Everything changed though when that damn lawyer read Grandpa Swan's will.

Suddenly I could afford things I'd only seen on television or in my mother's subscription of Cosmopolitan. Doors previously closed to me opened without questions. My name was whispered in curious, intrigued tones. There was no more "poor Bella Swan," instead replaced with "did you hear about how lucky Bella Swan is?"

For a girl who had been pitied for so long because I was unfit to even worse being ignored, my name was suddenly on the lips of everybody. I was the subject of local speculation and diner gossip.

The greasy spoon where Charlie and I had Sunday breakfast proclaimed itself to be "Bella's Favorite Restaurant." That I rolled my eyes at. The only reason we ate there so often was because it was one of four restaurants in Forks at the time.

It was a strange thing for me, going from invisible to celebrity overnight. Before I was Charlie Swan's kid, you know, the one with the brown eyes and big messy brown hair. The one with the funny walk.

Turns out I just needed a good stylist and a fine pair of heels to clear up my strange gait. I planned on being buried in my favorite pair of Louboutins because they did such fucking awesome things for my legs and ass.

I think that's what I liked about moving to a new city. I could be someone different. Nobody knew me here. I could pretend to be any lie I wanted. I could assume any personality I could concoct and nobody would ever be all the wiser to it.

I could disappear and become somebody else without any questions.

Forks Bella had long since died, but there was this small and I thought insignificant part of me that longed for her back.

That voice was getting louder and louder with each passing day.

Each year that passed, each anniversary I commemorated in silence because I didn't want anybody around me to know my deficiencies brought me that much closer to a part of my past I thought was long since cold, dead and buried in the ground.

It was like coming full circle to where I once was.

In the end karma always has a way of finding you when you think you've hidden from it. It searches you out and finds you when you are at your weakest. Hiding in the deepest, darkest corner you've ever found.

I thought I had evaded it all these years, bent on suppressing a part of my life I never wanted to go back to, but all I ended up doing was hiding from myself.

In addition to lying to everybody around me, the biggest lie I was telling was to myself. I may have thought I had moved past those years of my life, but when it came right down to it I was never getting past those years.

Some scars run too deep to heal with no visible markings. Some pain cuts too deep and simply cannot be healed. Some memories cannot be wiped clean no matter how much life you live after them.

Some events simply cannot be rewritten no matter how hard you try.

While I thought I was like the phoenix, emerging from the ashes victorious after having been thought defeated, I was simply no more than a wounded bird searching for a home among the branches of life with the wind whipping all around me.

There was no victory in what I was doing. No medal to be given for overcoming demons that refused to be locked away.

I knew I was wallowing in my pain; I wasn't stupid about that.

All these years later, these days, these hours, these mere breaths later, I was still allowing myself to be overtaken by events out of my control. I should be stronger than what I was. I should be able to defeat these demons and move on with my life.

It made so much sense when I said it like that. It sounded so easy when in reality it was so hard. Those self help books at stores make it sound so easy when it is perhaps the hardest thing out there. I hated those books. I'd flipped through a few of them only to throw them down in disgust. Those authors didn't know what it was to overcome true pain. They didn't know how to deal with what happened. They simply put down those pacifist words that were designed to make you feel better on the outside and be a productive member of society while still feeling like crap on the inside.

That's what I learned from those books.

All lies.

But were those lies any worse than the ones I was telling myself?

The ones where I said I could do this, that I could handle this, that I was getting better and I wouldn't let my past mess up my future.

In truth, those lies were much worse.

Lies, truths, and the whole damn ball of wax.

That's what life was about.

Not sunshine and kitties, happiness and love, spooning and secret embraces.

If people knew what life really was, they would never leave their beds, their houses, their safe places.

Each and every day we told ourselves the most destructive of lies just to get through our days. We lied to ourselves so that we could function and move about like any other human being did despite rotting and festering on our pain inside.

If life taught me anything, that's what life taught me.

You can look like a million bucks on the outside while feeling like less than nothing on the inside.

Lies.

All of them.

XXXXX

At precisely 5:17 p.m. my car pulled back into the underground parking area of my apartment building. The driver pulled right up to the door like always and silently got out, opening my door with a nod and downcast eyes.

It was like this every year.

Of all my employees he was the most sworn to secrecy. He'd signed more nondisclosure agreements than all of them combined just because of this one day of the year. I never, ever wanted my location on this day to get out and I was damned if I was going to let anything get in my way of absolute secrecy.

He was back in his driver's seat before I could blink and the car was pulling almost soundlessly away from me just as fast.

Every sound seemed to be magnified upon his departure. I swore I could hear the settling of the building's foundation around me if I really listened hard enough.

The elevator dinged a loud chime when the silver, metal doors slid open in front of me.

I got in and leaned heavily against the mirrored sides, my body feeling like it weighed a million pounds. My legs groaned in displeasure of holding me upright and I was instantly thankful that I could crawl into a nice warm bath when I got upstairs.

Other than my driver, all my employees had the day off. I gave them four days off a year: Easter, Fourth of July, Christmas and today. Thankfully nobody questioned why today was the odd man out. Nobody dared speak up when I made it plainly clear I was not to be disturbed in any way, shape or form today.

I didn't want them to see me like this.

I turned and looked at my reflection in the elevator's mirrors.

What stared back at me was horrendous.

Plain brown eyes. Plain brown hair. Dull skin. Boring clothes. Scuffed up shoes I normally wouldn't be caught dead in.

I had to dress like this though to avoid the cameras.

If I thought having my employees find out where I was this one day of the year was horrific, the thought of the press finding out was infinitely worse. My employees could be bought off with a raise or a nice bottle of 1990s vintage wine. The press, on the other hand, could not be bought off except with a bigger, juicier story.

They may have had short attention spans but when it came to a good story they latched on like a vampire on a jugular and didn't let go. They drank and drank until the story was dry and dead, throwing away the useless corpse when they were done.

The elevator again dinged when it reached my floor, the doors sliding open and revealing my front door. My apartment took the entire floor, but it had a door like any other. Well, two doors actually considering there was a back entrance for deliveries and employees, but that was semantics. The main door was gilt and ornate, everything a front door should be.

It commanded attention and decried that the person who lived inside was someone important, someone worthy of your time.

More lies.

Lies I was not about to correct for all the tea in China, or however that saying goes.

I think all of my partying was starting to affect my cognitive abilities and I mentally added "read more _real_ books" to my to-do list. Somehow I had a feeling reading the glossies wasn't about to build any lost brain cells sadly.

My apartment was quiet when I pulled the big ornate door open.

Right now I needed the peace.

Even Rose and Alice knew to leave me alone on this night for some reason.

Last year they'd tried to get me to go to some club opening and I had lashed out so violently, throwing a crystal vase across the room at them so quickly they'd barely had time to move out of the way. For someone who was not exactly the best at sports, it turned out I had very good aim when I was beyond pissed off and just wanted to be left alone.

The little silver bowl on the tall, slim table next to the front door welcomed my few keys like they were best friends, clinking loud and restless into the quiet of my apartment.

My steps sounded like earthquakes, my sneakers not doing their namesake job of dampening the sound of my steps.

I tucked my ratty rain slicker into the back of the coat closet, hoping against hope that nobody saw it. I always buried it behind some leather coats I never wore any more since publicly declaring that I would support PETA's anti-fur, anti-leather message. When my housekeeper Aniz went to get rid of the coats I made some hasty lie how I liked the smell of leather and forbade her to ever get rid of the coats. Little did she know they hid another bit of my secret.

My thoughts were cloudy as I crossed the marble hallway into the kitchen, for once intent on making myself something to eat.

The irony to having a personal chef was that I actually loved to cook. My mom had been so bad at it that I had taken over most of the household cooking at a young age. Before I started the cooking, meatloaf frequently ended up more like black, burnt hockey pucks than anything actually edible. Hence why pre-made foods were fabulously easy for Renee. Cereal she could do. Eggs, toast and bacon? Out of the question.

If I was being perfectly honest, I relished this one night I could make my own food.

I could be normal for a few hours and completely forget everything that being Miss Independent brought with it. I could forget the flashbulbs and forget the drama. Forget the hiding and forget my mask.

I was so lost in my thoughts and considerations as to what I would prepare with my own hand this one time that I didn't even notice the person standing in front of my fridge.

He was surveying the contents, his head down and unaware of my presence in the grandiose kitchen.

"I … I … you …" I slurred out, sounding drunk and incoherent to my own ears.

He turned around noiselessly, and his face betrayed nothing of what he could possibly be thinking. He wasn't wearing his chef's jacket. The dark black t-shirt clung to his torso, belaying the muscle and his well-groomed form.

He didn't speak, but instead stood there taking in the sight before him.

Poor old, mousy Bella Swan. For all intents and purposes I probably looked like a drowned animal without being wet. That vacant and desperate look I know I always got when I came home from my yearly commitment.

His eyes roamed my form slowly, taking in every detail and committing it to memory.

I was frozen in my spot, unable to say or move or do anything other than stand there and be judged.

I felt like I was back in Forks by the way he was looking at me.

That's what he was doing, judging me.

The pit of my stomach dropped out and I knew I wouldn't need anything to eat tonight. Any hunger I might have been feeling dissipated instantly.

Edward took a few steps towards me and his eyes strayed to my own. They had this depth to them that I had never seen before, a look I couldn't place and emotions I couldn't sense. Sure, he was judging me, but he was doing something else too.

"Edward."

His name was a whisper coming off my lips, and I wasn't even sure I'd even said it aloud. Perhaps I'd just said inside the comfort of my head.

"Bella."

My name fell from his lips just as quietly, but the difference was his voice sounded like an atomic bomb in the silence of the apartment.

I took a step backwards, every cell within me wanting to run far away from him.

The look in his eyes shifted and I felt something stirring within me. It was an odd sensation and one that I couldn't attribute to anything specific.

But I could have sworn … it felt like my heart was starting for the first time in a long time.

Like it had been dead within my chest, unable to move or beat or thump or feel anything.

And here, now, in this moment, it moved.

"Bella."

He said my name again and his eyes roamed my body again.

But this time … this time … something in me snapped. I don't know what it was and where it came from, but I did what was oh so typical of me.

I lashed out.

Again.

"Get out."

I hissed at him like an animal backed into a corner who knew she would not win the fight. Violent and sudden the outburst was. Low and dangerous.

His gaze shifted, almost unperceptive, and his jaw tightened at my demand.

I stood rooted in my spot as he took a few more steps towards me, my body refusing to give in and back down. My cackles were up and ready, my armor at the ready, my weapons cocked and loaded.

His quiet footsteps took him until he was right next to me until he stopped.

I stood my ground.

We stood shoulder to shoulder, fighter to fighter.

"I see you."

His words were barely words, whispered into the dead air and paper thin.

"Get out." I repeated myself.

He started moving again and I let out half the breath I had been holding.

I counted his steps until I figured he was at the kitchen entrance way.

"I see you."

He said those words again, bombs going off around me and in my mind.

"You see nothing."

My whispered reply was wrought with the pain I felt deep inside.

I waited until I heard the door slam behind him until I let myself break down. I fell to the hard marble floor, my knees crying out in pain from the contact.

The tears flowed down my cheeks like rivers and refused to let up.

He saw me.


	6. Chapter 5: Discovery and Obsession

**A/N: I am a terrible person. I wrote this at work on my netbook I stashed away in my purse instead of doing anything productive. Lucky for me I had nothing to do today anyways. **

**Miss Independent**

**Chapter 5 - Discovery and Obsession**

**Edward**

"She'd been hurt, Edward. Hurt real bad. I don't know how or even if I'll ever know, but it pains me to see her like that. It sounds like such a pussy thing to say, but seriously it makes my heart hurt to look at her sometimes."

I thought when I'd heard John say that one night over drinks that he'd been telling me shit. I'd known John all my life. We'd grown up together, gone to culinary school together, worked the line at the most grueling restaurant in Chicago together and hung out together.

I think that's why his words about his client surprised me. I knew who he worked for. It was fairly well known among the circle of friends we ran with, the line chefs turned personal chefs.

The pay was better, there usually wasn't as much stress and more often than not the hours were fairly regular and not obscene.

John had been looking for a little more stability in his life since he'd gotten serious with this girl he'd been seeing on and off for ages. They got married two weeks before he'd started as Bella's personal chef.

A year and a half later and they were moving to Ohio to be closer to her family. He'd broken the news to me and I'd been upset that I'd be losing another friend to marriage and family, but I'd understood his commitment to her took precedence over being here in Chicago.

He had encouraged me to apply for the position he would soon be vacating, saying that Bella paid better than any other client he'd looked at. She didn't have fancy tastes, preferring fairly routine foods to the avant garde fare we'd been used to preparing on the line.

His warning though had both confused and intrigued me.

In the city of Chicago, Bella Swan was a known commodity. Anybody who spent any time at clubs knew about her. She was talked about in gossip columns and appeared frequently in those glossy magazines that I sneered at when I saw them.

She was an unstoppable force, a gale force wind that swept into any place and got her way no matter what she wanted. There was no request too outlandish and no door that was closed to her.

I'd seen her from afar a couple times I'd gone out with a few friends, dragged out against my will to socialize with normal people who didn't have grease burn scars mottled up and down their arms. I liked to think I could be friends with people who weren't in the business, but I frequently found myself unable to converse with people who didn't understand what chefs went through. That's not to say we were a weird bunch with unique experiences; it's just that I really didn't have much to talk about with someone because I spent so much time in front of a stove or counter that I didn't have much of a life outside of my job.

Bella looked so steady, so rock solid in her role as party queen that I almost bought the image she was throwing off. It seemed Bella had everybody around her convinced she was exactly as she portrayed herself to be.

Or maybe almost everybody.

I knew that feeling. I knew that act. I had been doing it too long and that act was second nature for me now. It was hardly an act anymore and more of the reality I just lived with.

I had this sense about Bella that she was hiding something from the moment I first saw her. Because I had been putting on a show, that act for so long it was like second nature for me to see through the crap people threw out there. I had become good at reading people.

In all reality though, it wasn't that hard. Most people are too wrapped up in their own selfish thoughts to take the time to look outside themselves. If you truly stop and observe, you can see, learn and understand quite a few things about the nature of humanity you might not otherwise.

The times I saw Bella were interesting to say the least. Sometimes she was dancing around in a club and grinding her ass on some random guy with a look on his face like he just won the lottery. Other times she was hunkered down in a booth and silently observing the club as a queen would her kingdom.

She wore clothes that probably cost more than I make in a month as a chef and partied like there was no tomorrow. A lot of people at the clubs did that, the pretending that today was all they had to live for and living that day to the fullest.

I can't say I was any different than those people. I just knew how to hide myself better than they did. Or at least that's what I figured.

John gave me the date he had submitted as his last day working for Bella and probably convinced a few people here or there that I was worthy of hiring. Not that I needed it of course. I was an excellent chef and had been complimented and promoted frequently. If I hadn't decided to leave restaurant work, I probably would have made executive chef somewhere swanky in a short amount of time. I had a work ethic to knock all the young industry newbies on their ass.

My first day with Bella was eventful to say the least. She stumbled out of her bedroom around ten a.m. or so, and I heard her rustlings with enough time to start something for her to eat.

Bella first thing in the morning (okay, not _first_ thing but early enough to constitute early for a party girl) was about as unsuspecting as you could get.

Her hair was buck wild and in a messy bird's nest on the top of her head. The long brown strands were every which way and for some reason I wanted to get the knots out with my fingers. She had on this robe thing that clung to her in the right places and made the wrong places for me get a little too tight.

Okay, so I got hard looking at her.

So sue me.

I'm a guy and she was beautiful and all that crap. You get the drift. I don't have to elaborate too much hopefully.

Thankfully her bitchy tirade about John managed to calm the hardness between my legs and she glared at me while I finished her omelet. She peered up at me suspiciously when I slid the fluffy creation onto a plate and topped it with some sliced green onions and a few shreds of cheddar.

But her glowering immediately went away when she took the first bite of her food. A lot of people were like that in the morning. Grumpy as all get out until they got something in their stomach. Turns out Bella was one of those people.

After she shoveled the entire plate of food into her mouth (which honestly surprised me that she could eat that much and still be as slender as she was) she slinked back to her bedroom and dismissed me with a wave of her hand.

My first instruction when I'd signed my work contract and extensive confidentiality agreement that today's date was one of only a handful of dates all year that the staff had off work. The normal dates were listed: Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving, but today's date seemed so random and sporadic that I wondered at the significance of it.

I knew there were whispers among the staff why today of all days was given off. John had told me about them when I'd informed him I'd be working for Bella. They'd thought and thought about what the significance could possibly be, but nobody had figured it out yet. Of course, I don't think anybody wanted to figure it out either and suffer the wrath of Bella. If her glare at breakfast was any indication of the kind of ire I could suffer at her hands, I wasn't sure I wanted to figure it out either.

But still, the curiosity was still there. And I wasn't sure it would go away until I figured out the mystery that was Bella Swan.

I quickly cleaned up the kitchen after cooking breakfast, scrubbing the pans and loading the various dishes in the dishwasher for the maid to run the next time she'd be there. With everything in order again, I quietly slipped out the back entrance to Bella's penthouse apartment and rode the service elevator down to the ground floor.

The El was crowded today, and I purposely chose to ignore the curious stares of people when I accidentally pushed my jacket sleeve up. One time I caught the eye of a woman who was openly gaping at me and she turned her head away quickly, flushing and biting her lip. I could read her too, just like I read most people. She was wavering between curiosity and attraction. The last bit I noticed when she inconspicuously rubbed her legs together. Or at least in a way she thought was inconspicuous.

If I was any normal man I probably should have been flattered. But I wasn't normal and I had long since accepted that. Honestly, all the attention I got because of my looks made me really uncomfortable. I didn't like it and if I had my preference I would have liked to be ignored more than anything. I wanted to be left alone most of the time rather than attract attention for any reason. I liked to blend into the crowd instead of standing out, something I did far too often for any number of reasons.

My small one bedroom apartment was just like always when I finally turned the lock on the door, letting myself in and surrounding myself with the silence only my apartment could afford. In a lot of ways I enjoyed silence, but in a lot of ways I didn't. Silence gave way to thought and another thing I preferred was not to think if at all possible.

Quickly I made my way over to the little home iPod dock I'd bought last summer and pressed a few buttons. The soothing notes of classical music started flowing through the room and immediately I felt myself relax. My muscles had been wound tight, my nerves on edge for my first actual face to face meeting with the elusive Bella Swan and at least I could relax now.

I didn't much energy to do anything other than throw some leftovers into the microwave, cringing at the thought of eating something I'd made two days ago. It was good though, an amalgam of ingredients that resembled something close to chicken alfredo if chicken alfredo was made with beef and tomatoes instead of chicken and cream sauce. So in other words it wasn't much like chicken alfredo at all.

My television blared out nonsensical ramblings of whoever had written this drivel for a few hours and I finally turned it off so I could listen to the music in peace.

I must have drifted off to sleep because I woke up with start, covered in sweat and my heart pounding. I couldn't remember what I'd been dreaming about but by the way my body was in fight mode, there was a good chance I was having the same dream I'd had hundreds, if not thousands of times before. I refused to think about it though, instead tromping from room to room in my apartment and trying to flesh out the thoughts in my head.

I flipped the music on my system to something more suitable for my line of thinking, something with a pounding bass and drum line.

It was the kind of music that was good for fighting.

I blanched though when I realized this, turning it back to classical and pretending that I hadn't started to go down that line of thinking again. I was over that and trying to move on with my life.

Thoughts of Bella crept into my mind and I couldn't stop them. One thought led to another and then suddenly I had an incredibly random one that I needed to know what was in her fridge. In an almost compulsive way I needed to know each and every item in the cold box so I could catalog them and tuck the information away for further use.

I wasn't sure where the sudden intense need to know these things came from.

But I did know that until I fleshed out that compulsion there was little I could accomplish that didn't involve thinking about that damn fridge.

I glanced at the clock, noting that it was around 4:30 p.m. What little the staff knew of Bella's activities on this date mainly was that she left the apartment early in the morning and wouldn't come back until very late. Personally, I didn't understand why nobody was allowed to be there if Bella wasn't even there herself.

I made my decision before I even realized it. I was back out the door in about ten seconds, the lock secured behind me and my keys back in my pocket in fifteen seconds.

That same compulsion took me right back where I was that morning. Bustling work commuters shied away from me, lost in their own world of Blackberries, lunch meetings and secrets affairs with secretaries.

Under my best estimate I could get in Bella's apartment, catalog every item contained in her fridge and be back out in under fifteen minutes. I doubted she would even know I'd been there.

The gentle chime of each floor in the elevator soothed my frayed nerves and I stepped into Bella's dead silent apartment with a soft sigh. She wasn't anywhere around and I was home free.

Normally my thoughts would have been racing at the quiet stillness surrounding me but for some reason there was nothing where there usually was a hurricane. It was an odd feeling and made me pause with a frown on my face just as my hand wrapped around the handle to the fridge.

The low hum of the motor was enough company while I slowly went through each and every item, making a mental list for the things I would need and the things I wouldn't. John and I had very similar cooking styles thankfully so a lot of what he used would be suitable for my use as well.

I froze in my spot though when I heard the almost foreign sound of the apartment's front door opening and closing with a click and a thud.

I sensed her behind me before I heard her. My ears that were so finely tuned normally felt like they were stuffed with cotton. My tongue felt as dry as sandpaper and I compulsively swallowed air attempting to get rid of the feeling.

Slowly turning around, I felt like someone punched me in my gut, kicking me in the kidneys when I was down, and then bashed me with several large clubs just to get the point across.

Bella stood before me stripped of any pretense and any mask. She wore no makeup and had no fancy clothing on. She hadn't done her hair and it hung limply around her shoulders, looking almost as sad as she looked. Her big eyes were even bigger, probably because she was shocked I would be there.

I didn't blame her.

I was just as shocked to see her like this.

I think in that moment, I knew more about Bella Swan than anybody did in the entire world.

I saw her laid out in front of me like a feast for the eyes. I saw deep inside of her and intimately knew every facet of her personality. I could read her like an open book, crystal clear and printed fresh.

I could see her terror for being discovered.

"I see you."

My words were a whisper, just barely audible above the hum of the fridge.

They were the truth.

I saw everything about her, inside and out. Human nature at its absolute finest and I'd seen nothing better in my years in this world. As a student of human frailty she fascinated me.

As a man and a natural born protector though, she captivated me.

But she threw me out.

My footsteps were soundless when I walked past her and I smelled the unique odor of sickness cloaked all around her, my nose twitching from the sharp tang. I tried to think of a reason she would smell like that and came up with nothing.

I was in the elevator when it all came crashing back to me, the tidal wave of information I had just learned about my client and now my obsession.

The pieces were slowly becoming clearer.

I made it my life's mission to learn everything about Bella Swan I could.

Even if she fought me every step of the way.


	7. Chapter 6: A New Day

Disclaimer: I own nothing but instead borrow what isn't mine.

**Miss Independent**

**Chapter 6: A New Day**

I woke in my bed the next morning, someone having pulled myself across the opulent floors and into the plush surroundings of too expensive sheets and ridiculous thread counts.

My ratty clothes were still ratty and my tear stained cheeks were puffy. My eyes protested when I tried to open them, the tears long since crusting my eyes shut during the night. I'd cried for a long time and cried even after I'd found my way into bed.

The air conditioner's gentle hum surrounded me and filled my ears, the sound much more soothing than I usually gave it credit for. I'm sure my hair was a tangled mess and I didn't even both to run my fingers through it. I thought about calling my stylist for a second and getting an emergency appointment, perhaps for a deep conditioning treatment and blow out. Those usually made me feel better. Especially after days like yesterday.

I hadn't been doing this for long, my routine on my anniversary, but I'd already managed to erect some kind of mental shield around the events. I'd always been good at not thinking about unpleasant things and this was of course no different. This was the ultimate unpleasant thing and I had absolutely no intention of thinking about it if at all necessary.

Yesterday was for Mousy.

Today was for Miss Independent.

I rolled over in bed and buried my face in the feather pillows, inhaling the deep aroma of luxurious Egyptian cotton and my own smell. It was a weird thing to say, but I actually liked the way my bed smelled after I slept on new sheets for a few days. It was comforting smelling myself. Not a rank, nasty odor, but simply one of home.

I'm sure my bedroom back in Forks still smelled like me.

I took another deep inhale and there on the edges of what normally was one of my favorite smells in the world - after new leather and Chanel No. 5 of course - was that nasty smell I came home exuding last night.

Death and destruction.

I hurled myself out of bed, my body's unconscious reaction to such a horrible smell. I ended up pressed in the corner of my bedroom with my back against the wall, knees pulled up to my chest.

I'd smelled that smell before.

I absolutely hated it.

I stripped off the remnants of my old life as fast as I could, burying them in the back of my oversized closet and practically sprinting into the shower with inhuman speed. The water was still shockingly cold as it hit my overheated skin and I yelped at the drastic temperature difference. I scrubbed and scrubbed, intent on getting the truth of my life off my skin and down the drain. Just because I lived with it in my head didn't mean I had to live with it plastered across my skin.

I used every bottle of expensive soap I had in my shower and there were plenty of them. My skin was tender and pink by the time I'd gotten to the fifth bottle, but yet I continued on. I wanted it all gone.

But despite all this cleansing, I knew no amount of soap would remove the blackness that had nestled its way into my body.

There is some dirt that can never be removed no matter what kind of cleaning.

It was moments like this that I was convinced people saw the dirt when I went out. They saw the lies plastered across my skin, woven into my very existence and broadcast for the world to see.

I may be great at concealing what I preferred to be hidden, but no person is that good of an actor that all secrets can stay that way forever.

In all honesty it was only a matter of time before someone found out.

My mind flashed to last night when I got home.

Finding Edward standing there in my kitchen, the knowing look written on his face. It was if I had been made of glass and he'd seen right into the very heart of my soul. His green eyes cut through me like the sharpest of surgeon's scalpels.

A loud half sob bubbled up in my throat and I clamped my hand over my mouth to prevent it from escaping.

I'd felt so vulnerable him seeing me like that. Like I had no armor and no weapons to keep him out. Three little words passing his lips had torn down the tallest and thickest of barricades I could build to keep people out.

"I see you."

Those words whispered through my thoughts, spun around my sopping hair and made my heart beat furiously in my chest.

He'd seen me.

He'd seen all parts of me. I couldn't have been more naked in front of him even if I'd been wearing absolutely no clothing. In a way the clothing I'd been wearing had only added to his ability. They had spoken volumes when I'd been able to say so little.

Would he be back today?

Would Edward willingly come back when he was bound to be disgusted by what he saw standing before him? Or would he just quit after seeing what he had?

If he was smart he'd just leave and never come back. If he was smart he never would have come to work for me in the first place.

But then again, how would he have known any different? Who would have told him that I was damaged beyond repair and there was no use trying to prop me up any more? That the lies and image I'd built up were beginning to weigh upon me like the weight of Atlas holding the world? I certainly felt like I was holding the world upon my shoulders. It was a crushing feeling, carrying around a secret you both wished nobody to know and yet wanted to scream from the tops of buildings.

I walked that delicate line between hiding and divulging.

A line I so often wanted to cross, a line I so often flirted with, skirted around, straddled and hid behind.

The water had line since run cold when I realized my teeth where clattering and goosebumps had flared across my skin. With a shaking hand I turned off the shower and climbed out, the chill air of my bathroom making my knees almost buckle.

I took my time drying off and dressing, wanting to prolong the agony that was bound to happen when I stepped out of my bedroom, my sanctuary.

By the time I had assembled my battle gear for the day, I was convinced I could make it to another sunset. Another sunset where I could go and party, driving away my demons for another maddening night.

In a way this was my favorite day of the year. 364 days until I would have to back to that place again. 364 days until I would have to subject myself to a promise I'd long since vowed I would never break.

The longest span of time all year.

I selected an aqua jersey knit wraparound dress and buttery yellow cardigan. It was probably a little more conservative than I normally wore, but I felt like being covered today. The wounds I felt scrawled across my skin were still fresh.

Metaphorical wounds of course.

No actual mark marred my skin but still I swore if you looked hard enough you would see them.

Much like Edward had seen them the night before.

All breath left my lungs as I prepared myself to leave the confines of my safest place. I could do this, I convinced myself. I summed up all the strength I liked to think I had left, what little that was. Or at least as much as I liked to portray myself having.

And then I realized something.

Who was Edward anyway?

He was just some man who liked to think he knew everything about me. Someone who liked to think he could unnerve me by looking at me with those deep, soulful eyes and pretend that those looks meant something. He was merely trying to intimidate me by pushing my boundaries.

And I simply wouldn't let him do any of those things.

The last bit of my shell fell securely into place as I walked down the hall, my flats clicking on the floor and announcing my presence long before I entered the room. I wanted him to know that the girl he'd seen last night was not who I was. That was an anomaly.

The woman who stood before him now was who Bella Swan really was. He'd seen my weak moment, but by no means had he seen all of me.

I pushed down that little voice in the back of my head telling I was lying to the one person who could see through my persona. That voice was getting in my way. She wasn't helping today and I sure as all hell wasn't going to be listening to her right now, no matter how insistent she may be.

Edward was leaning over the counter when I strode into the kitchen with more confidence than I had in quite some time, his back to me. I couldn't help but stare at his ass no matter what. I think I may have even tilted my head a little while a flush built up across my skin.

Just because I wanted to fool him too doesn't mean I couldn't enjoy what was clearly a well built male body at the same time.

Or maybe that was just another lie I was telling myself, though I didn't really care much either way. I could justify it as well given that he was my employee and I paid him to be there. So if I felt like objectifying him behind his back I certainly had that right.

Horrible justification, I know, but I never said I was a perfect woman. Far from it in fact.

Edward's first sign he knew I was there was that his shoulders tensed up a little bit. The movement was barely noticeable under the fabric of his chef's coat and I felt a flutter go through my stomach at the thought of seeing his bare skin ripple for me without the cloth barrier.

Yet another thought I struggled to push back.

"I'm hungry," I announced in a bored voice.

"What would you like?" he answered sounding equally disinterested in me as I was attempting to appear in him.

I tapped my toe on the marble floor impatiently, waiting for a particular food craving or desire to pop into either my stomach or my head.

"Cheese fries and a burger," I finally stated.

"Okay," Edward answered and moved to fridge, probably in search of ingredients to prepare my meal.

"Strawberry shake too," I added.

"Noted."

He worked silently and I didn't bother to say anything, mostly because I didn't even know what to say. After all, what do you say to someone after something like last night? When they strip you down to your very base and the look in their eyes builds you right back up.

Because in a way that's what Edward had done by looking at me as he'd done last night.

I could feel the fissures fusing back together very slowly, the tears in my soul finding their way back to each other and mending. It was an odd sensation and one I was obviously not used to. I barely knew how to describe it, much less explain it.

It was as if seeing him there in front of me had sparked something within me. His three soft words bringing me peace while shattering everything I had built around me. An odd contradiction in terms, but one that I couldn't say felt all that horrible.

Maybe in a way my hiding had only been a cry for help. Maybe I was waiting for that one person to come along and see through all the crap, calling me on my bluff. Waiting for the one person who wouldn't back down in the face of Miss Independent.

I barely even noticed when Edward was done with my food until he cleared his throat and placed it in front of where I had moved to sit. Watching him work had lulled me into some type of stupor.

A part of me know I was acting very strangely. Almost like I was having mood swings. One moment I hated him, the next I was intrigued by him, the next determined to not show him any weakness, and the one after that I was admiring how sexy he was.

But the funny thing was, I really didn't care. I had that right to do whatever I wanted. I had earned it and I damn well wanted to admire Edward's physique.

Edward watched me as I picked up the burger. It smelled absolutely delicious and I think I may have even drooled a little just bringing it to my mouth. He smirked as I took my first bite and moaned a little. It tasted just as good as it smelled, juicy and perfectly done.

He turned back around and the whirring of the blender told me he was finishing my shake. My plate was half empty when the frosty glass appeared before me and I lunged for it, knowing by the point that it would be ridiculously good.

Of course it was. I probably sucked half of it down in one pull and I noticed Edward adjusting myself out of the corner of my eye.

It was my turn to smirk.

Edward audibly swallowed and ran his fingers through his hair, setting it standing on end. I squirmed a little in my stool at the counter. He busied himself cleaning up what he had made a mess of while cooking as I finished my food, even going as far as licking the last of the cheese from the cheese fries off the plate when he wasn't looking.

Yeah, that's right. I licked the plate. Don't judge me.

He didn't speak the entire time.

I thought there were a few times he opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but instead thought better of it. I noticed his eyes on me several times. But the look he was giving me now was a lot different than the look he had given me last night.

Last night's look had been cutting and knowing.

This look was searching and probing.

It was also full of … almost lust.

I'd seen those looks. Hell, I'd given those looks. Those were the looks I received whenever I went out dressed to the nines and looking like the million plus dollars I was worth. Those were the looks I was much more used to receiving. I could handle those looks.

"Looking at something?" I said finally, breaking the silence that had descended on the kitchen while he was cleaning.

"If I was?" he said defiantly. His eyes flashed heat and his jaw flexed as he answered.

"No reason." I flipped my hair over my shoulder in a typical Rose move and moved to get off the stool as gracefully as I could with a stomach full of greasy burger, cheesy fries and milkshake.

My steps were even as I walked out of the kitchen and felt Edward's eyes searing into my back. I didn't even need to turn around to know he was watching me. It came as second nature to me to know when someone was watching me walk away.

I think I heard him exhale sharply as I swayed my hips how Alice had taught me to do when I knew there was someone staring at my ass.

"I'll be back when I'm done with the girls. I want steak tonight," I called back after me and waved my hand in Edward's direction.

"Noted." His reply was short and crisp and I could imagine he was probably leaning over the counter bracing himself with his arms, deeply breathing and willing down the hard on I'd seen a glimpse of as I stood up.

XXXXX

"Oh just fuck him and be done with it. You need some dick," Rosalie said and held up a black dress in front of her body in the mirror. She shook her head and tossed it aside in favor of the same dress in red.

Alice clucked her tongue, but didn't say anything.

"Didn't you hear a single thing I just said? He's annoying as all hell," I snapped and picked up a pair of stilettos I was admiring on the store's display shelf.

"But he's hot and obviously grows a woody when he sees you. One plus one equals two fucking in my book," Rose returned with. "Seriously, what is with this shade of red? I look sallow!" She threw the red dress down, apparently dissatisfied with the color.

"Bella," Alice said quietly from a display of brightly colored clutch handbags.

I turned in her direction and her eyes were trained on me, ringed with sadness.

"What?" I said sharply.

"Nothing." She turned away quickly, the spiky ends of her hair swaying with her. "I think this purple satin one looks good with your dress."

I sighed deeply.

"Throw it on the pile," I said.

Alice shook her head a bit before picking it up. I felt like I could almost read her mind sometimes. This was one of those times. She had something to say to me, but didn't feel comfortable saying it.

"I'm going to see if they have this in a different red. This color is disgusting," Rose said and stomped off to the huddling mass of sales girls in the corner of the store who were too terrified of her to come within twenty feet of her.

Alice continued making herself look busy with the clutches and I fiddled with this particular pair of pumps that had caught my eye when I felt a body behind me. I turned around and Alice's deep, soulful eyes were locked with mine instantly. Her nose barely came to my chin, but for someone so small in stature she boasted a large presence.

"Bella, I just … I mean … I don't know … I know something's going on with you. I can tell that. I just want you to know that … I mean … we all go through crap," she said, stumbling over her words and wringing her hands at the same time.

"Alice …" I started. I really didn't want to have this conversation with her here … or anywhere for that matter. I could handle my pain on my own.

"No, Bella. That's what friend are for. If you're not cool with talking when Rose is around, it can just be you and me. But you need to know there are people there for you if you need them. Don't keep pushing us away. I'm here for you always. I don't take friendship lightly, Bella. You need me; I'll be there," she said and turned away quickly before I could say anything in response.

She followed the sound of Rose's screeching voice; she was ranting about something to do with hues and skin tone matching.

Alice's little lithe body practically danced away, as was her way.

I was left with my mouth hanging open in her wake.

In that moment I learned something about humanity.

It wasn't the size of a person's body that determined the size of their heart.

It was the size of their soul.

And in that second, I didn't feel so alone.


	8. Chapter 7: Eruption and Descruction

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Busy with school and my own writer's block and lack of creativity.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but instead borrow what isn't mine.

**Miss Independent **

**Chapter 7: Eruption and Destruction**

The knowing looks. The stares. The little glimpse of glint of sorrow in people's eyes when they looked at me. Knowing that people who saw me didn't see the front I wanted them to see. People who knew me since I was a baby in diapers crying my head off when my favorite toy was taken away from me. The little white stuffed rabbit my dad placed in my crib right after I was born.

I'm sure that thing was torn up and abused by now. I'm also sure my parents still had it stored away somewhere in the attic of the old family house. My mother saved everything. Every last piece of my childhood was packed away somewhere in a dark, damp attic just waiting for me to come back and claim the lost remnants of my life.

A life I sure as hell didn't want any more.

I had created a new life for me. One far superior to the one I left behind.

The small town where everybody knew everybody's business. At least here in my new life I could force secrecy on people who saw inside my inner sanctum. Strict confidentially clauses with harsh penalties for breaking them bound every one of my employees.

Even the mysterious Edward with his eyes that saw far too much for what I would have liked.

The more I was around him the more I realized he was too perceptive for his own good. He saw things about me I didn't want him to see. His eyes cut right through me, baring my secrets without me ever having to open my mouth. He saw inside my very soul it felt like sometimes.

I tried to limit my time around him, for fear of what might happen if he caught on to too many of them. I closely watched what I said. Never knowing what piece of information he would latch onto.

We talked very little and that was just fine with me. He made whatever food I requested whenever I requested it. He didn't put up a fuss and he didn't question anything. When he needed clarification he asked, but other than that he spent more time in his own head watching me than I spent inside mine and that was a very large amount of time.

When we didn't exchange words, we exchanged looks. I felt tension starting to cover us in a thick layer of pent up frustration. It was like a heavy down comforter on a cold winter's night. It wrapped around us and brought us closer together whether we liked it or not.

His eyes lingered on me and mine lingered on him. I noticed the way he walked, the fine sinew of his arms whenever he pushed the sleeves up on that white chef's coat of his and the way the cords in his throat and neck stood out when he was deep in thought. He had long fingers and I became fascinated with them.

On more than one occasion I let my mind drift to the very different things he could be doing with those fingers. Things that would make me happy and hold back the darkness that was always on the edges of my mind.

I'd be stupid if I didn't think of that. And I certainly wouldn't be a woman who had gone without for far too long.

Maybe Rose was right. Maybe we should just do it and get it over with. Of course then there would be something even bigger than the night he saw me come home in my secret clothes that I would want to enforce secrecy on him.

I walked a delicate line with Edward. Walked that line between giving into temptation and desire versus keeping my distance and keeping my safety.

It wasn't my physical safety I was concerned about. There was something innate about him that told me he would never hurt me. I never had to fear for my safety whenever he was near. It wasn't that he didn't have the capability to do it. While I'd never seen him without his shirt, I certainly could sense the power in his body. It was his sheer presence that let everybody around him know that.

The safety I was concerned about was the safety of my own emotions I'd built up. It took me years to build those walls high and safe around me. Walls so thick and resolute that very few people every saw what was held within those walls. I worried that once Edward caught a glimpse at the darkness I held back that there would be no stopping it from coming out. All my secrets, big and small, would be laid out in front of him and the consequences of that were terrifying.

I didn't even want to imagine the reaction to those secrets.

The very thought terrified me and woke me up at night.

The thought of anybody finding them out, but most certainly the thought of Edward.

Though we had shared very little with each other, I felt that bond to him already. Having someone around often enough will do that.

I felt that draw to him that I'd never felt to anybody else. Sure, if I was in a club I could spot a cute guy from a mile away. I could go up to him and dance. There was a physical attraction there. It was purely a rush of hormones that even I couldn't control with all my restraint I'd built up.

But the pull I felt towards Edward was much more. It was more of a universal force. As if the very universe itself was pulling me towards him in every way. I couldn't explain it and damn if I couldn't put it into proper words.

Days passed and it grew.

Weeks passed and it blossomed.

I knew he sensed it too. His looks became more intense. His glances lingered just a little bit longer each time.

I felt his eyes on my body and his soul reaching into my mind. Like he was trying to read me without me even opening my mouth.

Like he was listening to me without me having to say anything.

I felt the heat building.

Something told me it was only a matter of time before that heat had to find its way out. Energy can only be built up for so long before it had to be released. Volcanoes cannot simmer forever.

Eventually there will be an eruption.

XXXXX

The cool satin of my gown lay across my bed. It was a one of a kind dress, couture and very expensive. The designer I had commissioned it from had flown it to Paris to be constructed and finished. Every seam was fit perfectly to my body.

It was a deep sapphire color and had accents of cream around the waist. One shouldered and hit me right above the knee. I had great legs and hell if I wanted to show them off I would.

I was going to a charity event, one of those boring ones where after the red carpet is over all that is inside the ballroom is old pervy men and their thick checkbooks. Most of the exciting people ducked out the back door after walking in. I would normally have done that too except it was Rose's favorite charity.

She had a personal connection to the cause. A survivor of assault when she was 16, she felt passionately about helping and bringing attention to the cause of victims of similar crimes. She donated generously, anonymously of course. There were four people in the world who knew about her attack. Alice, Rose herself, me and her attacker. Did she want justice for him? Sure. The problem was that she was at a party and had too much to drink back when she was just starting to model. She couldn't remember exactly who it was.

The thing about Rose I admired was that she had the fortitude to do something about it rather than sit back and play the whiny victim who couldn't do anything. Just because she couldn't put her attacker in jail didn't mean that those who perpetrated similar crimes wouldn't be brought to justice. She wanted to help the women who had suffered like she did.

Her strength about it was something I was envious of. I wished I had that much strength.

Tonight's event was the highlight of our social calendar for the year. We all made sure we were dressed to the nines for it. Made sure that every strand of hair was perfect and every angle looked spectacular.

When I left my penthouse I felt Edward's eyes sliding over my body like they always did. His eyes never left me whenever we were in proximity to each other.

But tonight, I felt that the hunger, the deep ache had somehow intensified.

The volcano was steaming, boiling, looking for an eruption.

My weakness to him was growing as well. I didn't know how much longer I would be able to go without some kind of relief. Some kind of touch. Some kind of sensation more than just the caress of his eyes.

The dim light of the limo I shared with Rose and Alice left nothing to hide. Even in the darkness they could sense something different about me tonight.

"Wow, Bella. I don't think I've ever seen you wound tighter. You still haven't hit that and quit that yet?" Rose grinned at me.

I gave her my best withering glare but she only smiled wider.

"Oh it's gonna happen. I know it. I have a second sense when it comes to sexual tension. And you, dear Bella, are the world's largest bundle of sexual tension at this moment," she giggled. Yes, Rose the model giggled at me about the fact I was wound tighter than a damn snare drum thanks to the green glint of Edward's hungry eyes.

Alice stayed oddly quiet, but had this little smirk on her face. She knew more than she was telling me. I always felt like she did. Calling me moments before I was about to call her. Saying things I was about to say.

"Just stop, Rose. You don't know what you're talking about," I hissed at her.

Too bad my own body language and attitude was giving myself away.

She giggled again in a way I hadn't seen her do in awhile and it made me wary of what she thought was going on. Sure, Edward and I weren't screwing like bunny rabbits but our eyes sure seemed to be engaged in a battle of wills more than anything.

The red carpet for the fundraiser was pretty much like any other red carpet. There were a few media people with cameras and someone taping a short segment for the nightly news, but we managed to get by them with very little hassle. Rose made it a point to be right up front about everything and get her picture taken, but this was one time I preferred to keep my image out of the media.

Inside the ballroom it was the same as it was every year. It look magical. Completely freaking magical. Icicle lights and ribbon. Candles and gorgeous centerpieces on every table.

I should have been enjoying myself but I couldn't even muster the will to do that. Alice and I danced for a little while on the all together too small dance floor, though admittedly I looked a bit like an epileptic baby seal tonight than anything. My limbs just weren't wanting to cooperate with my brain. Any other night I would have been having a good time and making myself known. I usually wanted everybody to know about the great presence that had graced their benefit. The famous and infamous Bella Swan.

My brain wasn't with my body though.

I could lie and say it wasn't where it was, but then I would be doing myself and everybody else a disservice.

It was back at my penthouse, still smoldering over the volcano.

The night was ending quickly, thank god. Speeches were made. Dinner was served. A nagging voice in the back of my head told me that Edward could have done a better job with the prime rib than the cooks had done here. I tried to put that voice out of my head though.

I didn't do a very good job at it.

I knew this was a worthy cause and I should have been listening to the great speeches about victims and suffering women and all that, but the whole time I was thinking about what Edward was doing. If he was lounging in front of the television at his apartment. If he was on his bed in his apartment. Hell, if he had an apartment all together. I mean, chances were good he had one considering where else would he live, but I knew very little about him. Maybe I would look up his address on his employment file when I got back to my penthouse. You know, just to see what neighborhood he lived in. Nothing more. No hidden agenda there. I was curious.

Yeah the excuse sounds pitiful to me too.

Finally as the last toast was made people started filtering out. It looked like once and for all the night was truly getting done. I was ecstatic.

I practically had to drag Rose out of there because she wanted to talk to practically every person who had bought tickets to thank them for their support and their donations. Alice followed behind me, clucking her tongue sometimes and giving me that look like she knew what I wanted to do when I got back home.

I wouldn't put it past her to know.

The sounds of the city barely filtered through the limo and I would have sworn I heard my own heart beating above the quiet hum of the car.

"Bella, you've been tapping your fingers so hard I think you're going to chip off that polish in a second," Alice quietly said about halfway back to my penthouse.

"Am not," I snipped at her and then looked down to find I'd been doing just that on the limo's armrest.

I pulled my arms around myself and willed my body to stop the constant thrum of energy I'd been feeling the last week or so.

Alice and Rose exchanged looks.

It felt like a century before the damn limo pulled up to the underground elevator in my building's parking garage and the driver came around to open the door for me.

"Wrap it up!" Rose giggled again and made an obscene hand gesture in my direction.

"Shut up!" I snapped and slammed the door behind me before the driver could do it himself.

The limo may have been pretty sound proof but even I heard the giggles and laughter that the two girls were having as I walked to the elevator.

I punched in my code and the doors slid open with a gentle dinging noise. The smooth marble floor and mirrored side panels greeted me like an old friend and I leaned against the handrail for support. I felt like clutching at whatever I could.

Shit, I really was wound up pretty tight.

Each floor up to mine clicked off and my heart started pounding louder in my chest. I felt supremely stupid for feeling like this. Edward wasn't there. He wasn't still in my apartment. After I'd left he didn't have anything else to do for the night. He would have left long ago. Long long ago. Probably hours ago. He was probably already asleep like any normal person would be at this hour of the night.

Normal people slept. Normal people didn't have heart palpitations when thinking about the way intense eyes caressed their body like a lover's touch. Normal people weren't breaking out into a cold sweat when their elevator finally got to their floor.

The key to my apartment slid in easily and all seemed quiet as I opened the door. Reaching in, I flicked on the lightswitch that was right inside the front door so I wouldn't be going in a dark apartment.

Lights on, the door was next.

God, I felt like my pulse was skyrocketing.

There was no other explanation other than that I was going absolutely insane. The darkness on the fringes of my mind had finally caught up with me and were going to drag me under. It was the only reason I could come up with for the urges I was feeling at the moment.

My heart shot through my head.

Because there sitting on my couch in the front room was the very person I'd been thinking about, dreaming about, fantasizing about, obsessing about for every minute I was awake and most of the ones I was asleep.

Edward.

Sitting on my couch.

Like he was just an invited guest.

His eyes raking over me like always.

It wasn't only my pulse I could feel in that room; it was his too. That was why I had been pulled back to my apartment. I felt the tug of him. I felt the pull. The lure of intensity and the lure of the explosion.

Something told me the explosion was going to come sooner rather than later.

Like really soon.

"Bella."

His voice rang out as clear as day in the quiet of my apartment, even managing to ring true above the obnoxiously loud thumping of my heart in my throat.

It was the way he said my name that had my pulse reaching into the red danger zone.

I swallowed roughly and found that I had nothing to swallow. My mouth had gone dry.

"Edward."

My own voice sounded painfully unsteady compared to him.

I counted to ten in my head and his eyes never left me the entire time as I stood there rooted to my spot on the floor, the front door of my apartment still wide open. My keys dangled from my fingers and all it took was a moment for me to drop them to the hard black granite tile of my entry way.

It sounded like a bomb went off compared to the overwhelming silence.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, Edward rooted to his spot on the couch and me glued to mine in the entry way. Seconds, minutes, hours. It felt like time ceased to move.

His eyes never left mine.

Every ounce of self control I'd built for so long was crumbling away. He was taking every brick out of my thick protective walls without even saying a word or making a move.

All it took was his eyes.

He stripped me bare with nothing left. I very well should have been naked. There was nothing else to protect me other than myself. And even that felt like it was crumbling.

I didn't know who I was any more.

I blinked and Edward was getting up off the couch, his tall lanky frame moving so smoothly I nearly cried. Tears prickled in the corners of my eyes and I barely held back the deluge that was sure to come soon.

My mind told me he was coming to me, taking me in his arms and making my entire world better. My heart hoped for the same thing. The heart that was still beating furiously and was in danger of giving out any moment thanks to the crazy things he was doing to my pulse just by looking at me.

He moved silently and as he came towards me I felt my eyelids slide shut. At least this way if he finally broke me he couldn't see my eyes. That was the last bastion of my secrets inside my mind.

But he didn't hold me. He didn't touch me. He barely even grazed me.

I heard the door shut behind me softly.

My heart broke.

He'd left.

I felt the tears again and hated myself for breaking the promise I'd made to not cry over anything ever again so long ago. Tears were a wasted sentiment and I didn't want them.

My heart didn't listen to my brain.

The tears poured down my cheeks before I could stop them.

Big fat, rolling tears that had been stored up for ages. Tears I refused to cry even over the littlest things. From stubbing my toe to all the big secrets I held within myself. Tears I had not wanted to ever shed over events I refused to acknowledge.

The walls had come down too soon and I had been left defenseless to the emotions running rampant through me.

I was fractured in millions of places and knew I would never be put back together. I would never be the same again. No more strong Bella. No more wild child. No more. I couldn't be that girl again. I couldn't put on that makeup and play that part. She didn't exist. An image I had carefully crafted and honed with practice disappeared in barely a breath.

Everything shattered around me.

"I'm sorry."

Whispered words filtered into my brain slowly and I heard them being repeated again and again.

Along with my life apparently my sanity had disappeared as well.

"I'm so sorry."

But the words weren't coming from inside my head.

They were coming from outside.

My eyes fought to open and through a glaze of tears I saw redemption looking back at me.

He was still there.

Edward.

He hadn't left.

Strong arms wrapped around me and the pain eased.

Instinct had me clutching at him, reaching for anything I could hold onto. His shirt, his arms, his hands, back, anything. I dug my fingers into his body and I didn't want to ever let go.

There was nothing demanding in the way he held me, nothing that spoke to him wanting more than the moment. He wasn't asking to know my secrets – he was waiting for me to tell him first. There was no urgency, no need, no threat.

My world had just collapsed around me and I think Edward knew that. He had sensed the change from the very beginning. It was only a matter of time before things had to change for me and Edward had been my catalyst without even knowing it.

Or perhaps he had known it and that's why he'd stayed.

The easy thing would have been to leave.

The harder thing was to stay and hold me.

I would never forget that for as long as I lived.


End file.
